Thinking of the past I feel my life
Is slipping by at such a speed
The things I knew have gone and those I loved
I took for granted and deceived
Well, call me anything you will
I'll hide behind the purple pill
And though it seems I'm laughing still
I'm crying
Well, looking from my window I see winter
Almost too bare to believe
You know that people change with seasons
And I wonder if it's my turn to receive
Oh, yeah
But they avoid the things I ask
Or quickly change their style of mask
The faith I had is fading fast
And dying
Seems to me the only way to be
Is like a business man
And have bad colors round my head
Getting drunk to find some peace of mind and consolation
But, oh, there's still the problem of what happens when I'm dead
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